Incalescent
by AmbulanceRobots
Summary: My friend gave me the prompt "Zarya uses Lúcio as a teddy bear," and this is what spawned. I will never be sorry. Originally posted on AO3.


It could get cold inside the Rock.

While the weather outside almost never dipped below fifty degrees, quite a bit of the base was carved directly into the cliff of Gibraltar. It could get drafty and chilly, especially in the long, lofty hallways.

If forced to choose between stifling heat and chilling cold, Lúcio would choose the heat every time.

He was used to being warm. Brazil was tropical, and it's weather behaved appropriately; it took a lot for him to start feeling uncomfortable, nothing that couldn't be remedied by shedding a layer or altering daily habits to avoid direct contact with the sun. Plus, it was always an excuse for a cold beer.

Not at all a problem this evening. November had brought with it a frosty cold snap that, aside from being unseasonal at the Rock, felt to Lúcio as to be heinous enough to have not at least brought snow with it (never mind that snow here was rare enough as to make the news, should it ever occur). He was wiggled in his blankets up to his eyes, and it just didn't feel like it did anything. He could not sleep for the life of him, and utilizing his tablet comfortably required freeing his arms from their blanket confines. Kind of the opposite of what he wanted to be doing.

Hana had bounced earlier in the evening for a stream. Lena, fresh off a mission late this evening, had rolled almost straight into bed. Most of the rest of the base was quiet, and really, he wanted to be warm and asleep instead of awake and cold.

A last-minute idea, unlikely to bear fruit, urged him to snake a hand out towards his phone. He cast a bleary squint into the brightness of the screen. The odds of this working were slim, really; she was less an evening person than he was, preferring to be up at the crack of dawn, if not before, and kept far more reasonable hours than he did. Still, she had excused herself from the common space later than usual, and not too long before him. And it wasn't like he was doing anything else, so…

 _:r u up?:_

There were several minutes of silence, and Lúcio was sure she was out for the night, when his phone chirped.

 _:no:_

He snorted at the conflict of the message. Still, he could respect it; it was as much a "I was asleep, thanks" as he had ever heard.

He put his phone back on the table, wriggling back down into his blankets and determined, this time, that he would force his brain to quiet the hell down, when his phone chirped again.

:door open for u for next ten mins:

He needed no other invitation.

He threw off the covers and regretted it near instantly. Holy shit, it was cold without those! Never mind the floor; note to self, get a damned rug. He managed to stumble into sandals and a sweatshirt before pushing out into the hall.

And the damned drafty hallways made his room feel downright balmy.

He didn't see or hear signs of a single other person as he navigated his way to the second corridor of dorms. By the time he arrived at the door he was looking for, he was halfway ready to bolt back to his room and dive under the covers. But then he would have roused her for nothing, and that could bode ill for him in the near future, so… there was that.

He hesitantly punched the button to her door lock; sure enough, the biometrics didn't even ask who he was, and he heard the bolt disengage from the frame. It was dark inside, but he stepped in anyways, hearing the door slide shut and lock again behind him.

He fingered his phone just enough to bring up the screen, using the glare to navigate. Had this been Hana's room, he would have used the actual flashlight, since hers was always strewn with any number of heavy, sharp or crunchy objects to step on or jam one's toe against. He knew, because he had done so while wide-awake and during the day. Zarya, however, was noticeably more fastidious about her things, great because her things were generally far larger and heavier than Hana's.

He did not feel like imagining the bone-splitting pain that would come from jamming a foot against that cannon that weighed more than he did.

He set his phone down once he reached the bed, emitting just enough light for him to see the pink crest of hair sticking out from under the pile of blankets. He could hear her breathing, slow and even, clearly she hadn't even bothered to stay awake to see if he would show.

There was something… nice about that; apparently they had reached the point in this "friends with benefits" relationship that she didn't even mind having him invade her space while she was asleep. His phone eventually timed out and went to sleep, but by that point he was already shimmying under the covers, sans only sandals. Oh, it was so warm under here… he pushed himself deeper until his back brushed against hers.

He had barely gotten comfortable when she moved, rolling over to throw an arm over him, sliding her other arm underneath him and around his waist, and nuzzling against the nape of his neck. Her breath tickled against his ears and shoulders, and his skin prickled. Her fingers dug into the fabric of his sweatshirt, and she gave a husky almost-growl into his hair. He turned just to peek over his shoulder (and he realized how stupid that gesture was in the _dark_ ).

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

She mumbled something low that may or may not have been in English. Whether she had still been partially awake or had roused when he entered, he couldn't fathom. He had learned quickly, however, that she was a lighter sleeper than himself, and could go from dead asleep to reasonably awake before he was even done yawning. He squirmed to get comfortable in her embrace, just as she pulled back a little. He gave a grunt that was clearly questioning enough to get a response, her voice still thick with sleep.

"It's in the way." And she gripped the back of his sweatshirt.

He realized what she was doing fast enough, but that did little to stop anything as she pulled up, hard. Even half asleep in the pitch black and she was able to overpower him with no effort (Lúcio wasn't too surprised, really, but there were still times when it was sudden enough to be startling). He clutched his sleeves tightly, loathe to let the garment go.

"Zarya, please don't. I'm cold!"

"Don't need it." He gasped as she slid her other hand up under his shirt, across his chest and up to his shoulder, holding him still. Goddamn if her hands weren't the warmest thing he'd felt in a long time, and he relaxed slightly into the touch. It was enough that when she gave another hard tug, his sweatshirt came off over his head. Unfortunately, it took his tank top with it. He yelped and squirmed as his skin was exposed to the air, and he heard the muffled sound of her tossing the wad of clothing onto the floor. She didn't give him time to lament it, tightening the blankets around them both before crushing him back against her.

Lúcio swallowed a whimper. Oh dear tap-dancing angels, _yes._ She was like a furnace, burning against the skin of his back. The thin undershirt she was wearing did nothing to mute the heat, and he arched his shoulders back into her chest. She made it easier, curling tighter around him, resting her chin on his head. She had both her arms back around him, one hand splayed wide against his chest, the other idly caressing his stomach. If he weren't tired as hell and comfortable as all get-out, that may have stirred up another activity. For now, though, he was more than content enough to play the part of warm, well-cuddled stuffed animal for her. A win-win, really. He relaxed and went limp, letting her have him.

Zarya spared a moment to press a soft kiss into his shoulder. She nuzzled her face back into his hair, giving him another hard squeeze before relaxing. It took only a few moments more before her breathing evened back out, comfortably back asleep. Cocooned warmly in her heavy arms, her body burning pleasantly against his back, Lúcio found himself not far behind.


End file.
